I knew better than to speak or ask questions, choosing instead to keep quiet as they made work of undressing what their predecessors had so meticulously dressed. When they were done, I was modestly covered beneath a layer of thin linen, my skin underneath it reacting to the cold of the room with fields of gooseflesh and a puckering of the tips of my breasts. Some forgotten instinct inside of me thought to cross my arms over my chest to cover my modesty, but I knew better than act on those thoughts, leaving my body exposed to the chill, and the females attending to me.

And then one of them spoke.

“You’re rather pretty for a punishment.”

One Dark Kiss